


Is Dinner Ready?

by CannonCanon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe, Breakfast, Breakfast Artist!Gabriel, Christmas, Community: sabriel_mini, Crack, Dysfunctional Family, Evil John Winchester, Fluff, Food, M/M, Preacher!John Winchester, mentions of past human trafficking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-15
Updated: 2013-11-15
Packaged: 2018-01-01 10:51:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CannonCanon/pseuds/CannonCanon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a story about food, relationships, and self esteem.  Gabriel's brother, Castiel, is marrying his longtime boyfriend, Dean Winchester.  To help smooth things over with Castiel's new family, Gabriel has volunteered to cook for a church Christmas party.  Things get complicated when Gabriel finds out the guy he's been flirting with at the restaurant where he works is Sam Winchester, Dean's little brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is Dinner Ready?

“I hope you can be sensitive about this, Gabriel,” Castiel said seriously. “You know how much I appreciate your help, and how much I'm depending on it. Mr. Winchester's opinion can have an impact on how things go for Dean from now on.”

Castiel's beat up Honda Civic was parked outside the old Lawrence Missionary Baptist Church, and the two of them were sitting inside, having a last minute chat. Castiel saw no reason to buy a more expensive car, since spent most of his time in the air. Being a flight attendant did strange things for his lifestyle. He spent much of his spare time with his boyfriend anyway, and Dean had his own, much nicer car. 

Castiel was trying his best to coach his brother on procedure for the hellish nightmare that would inevitably follow, but Gabriel was sure nothing could really prepare him for what he was about to go through.

“Why doesn't Dean just talk to his dad?” Gabriel asked for at least the third time. “I mean, it's not hard. He just has to say, 'Hey, Dad, this is the guy I'm in love with. Hope you like him, if not, I'm not sorry.' Problem solved, we could all go out for drinks afterward. And hey, if he doesn't like you, that's one less person to shop for during the holidays.”

“Dean is very close to his father, and I think it would be difficult for him if they became estranged. And Dean's brother is just as important. I-” Castiel reasserted, “We really want to preserve Dean's-” he had to correct himself again, “our family.”

Gabriel tried to bite back his laughter, and was only somewhat successful. “You're so easy to read,” Gabriel said. “This is more about you than Dean, isn't it? You think he's not going to go through with it if it makes his Daddy fly off the handle, and so you're doing your damnedest to make sure he doesn't.”

“Dean and I are going to get married regardless of what John Winchester thinks,” Castiel said, his patience wearing thin. “My motives are exactly as I said they were. I want Dean to be happy. If Dean's not happy, I'm not happy.”

“Dean has no clue why we're doing this, does he?” Gabriel said, “My God, you volunteered yourself and your agnostic brother to help with Christmas Dinner at his church so your future father-in-law doesn't flip about the big announcement, and Dean thinks you're actually doing this because you like to be helpful. That poor, pitiful soul.”

“I never said I was unselfish,” Castiel said in that gruff, irritable tone he was so good at. “Dean knows me, I'm not tricking him into marrying me. I'm just trying to ease the way.” He paused, and Gabriel knew it was because he was going to change tactics. “I'm glad I have your help on this, and I hope you know I'd do the same for you.” Guilt has always been an excellent weapon to use against Gabriel. He had a very strong sense of family obligation, even if he did have a funny way of showing it. “Now, you remember what we talked about, concerning the Winchesters? You remember what we're going to call Dean's father, right?”

“Mr. Winchester,” Gabriel said.

“Right, or you can call him Brother John or Pastor Winchester. And not Papa Winchester, right, Gabriel? Nothing like that, right? Your mocking nicknames aren't funny while we're alone, they're definitely not going to be funny to his face,” Castiel said. Even most practical jokers wouldn't need a reminder like this, but Castiel could recall occasions when Gabriel had gone far out of his way to embarrass him or any one of their other family members. The only person Gabriel seemed to respect too much for a hard jab was their father, and he tried to stay out of the brothers' quarrels.

“Now that's where you're wrong, little brother. I'm pretty sure they'd be hilarious to his face,” Gabriel tried to imagine what John Winchester might look like. He imagined he'd be a proud, dignified looking old guy. He pictured deep furrows in his brow, briefly confused, and then maybe angry. And that delighted Gabriel to no end. He almost wished Castiel would give him a reason to mess this up for him. Some little slight, some reason to sabotage his important mission.

But instead, Castiel was patient and grateful and no fun at all.

Castiel continued to lecture Gabriel unabashed, “Try not to mention Mr. Winchester's wife, he's sensitive about the fire. Dean says it makes him kind of angry and hostile, which is frankly the opposite of what we need. A calm Winchester is a friendly Winchester. Which brings us to the other topic.”

Castiel had been over the other topic before, but Gabriel could stand to hear it one more time, because he couldn't remember Dean's little brother's name. Little brother might be something of a misnomer from the sound of it. He knew that Dean's brother would be taller than him. Castiel met him at Thanksgiving and came home telling what sounded like fish tales. Knowing Dean Winchester, it was hard to believe he had a brother that much taller than him. Castiel and Gabriel shared an apartment, so it would have been difficult to avoid learning a few details about Dean. But Dean's little brother was a mystery. He was supposedly in college. He was, maybe, five years younger than Gabriel. He went through a couple of terrible tragedies. And that was about all he could remember about the guy.

“Dean has a younger brother named Samuel,” Castiel reminded Gabriel. “He'll probably be helping Dean with the kids. Dean loves him, but Sam and Mr. Winchester have some problems,” Castiel paused. “He's been through a lot this last couple of years. Dean says he use to be the sunny one in the family, but it's kind of hard to picture it now.”

“Remind me to avoid him,” Gabriel said. A sourpuss was the last thing Gabriel needed to have around. They were prime targets for his games, and games were something Gabriel couldn't afford to play. Castiel had nearly convinced him to care about the outcome of their little endeavor.

“Gabriel,” Castiel said, “Try to be nice. For me.”

“I don't know how you talked me into this,” Gabriel sighed. “You know how bad I am with kids.” And it was true. As much as Gabriel was a giant kid himself, real children gave him a headache after half an hour or so.

“You probably won't even have to talk to children, you're going to be in the kitchen all day,” Castiel said. “Which you know quite well is exactly where you should be. Especially if we want to impress the Winchesters.” This was flattery, even if it was accurate. Gabriel had never met a cook who could outdo him, not since he was 25. He could make almost anything taste better than it had any right to. He was especially skilled with baked goods and sugar. He studied to be a pastry chef briefly, before he realized how hard it would be to get a job as a pastry chef. “You have a gift, Gabriel, it should be used in the service of God. Or at least the greater good.”

“Right now it's being used in the service of Lenny's Pancake House, but I'm glad you feel that way,” Gabriel said dryly.

“I would give anything not to have you do this,” Castiel said, as he was prone to do. Gabriel heard him say it altogether too many times since they became brothers so many years ago. The words were becoming meaningless. But it did indicate a general kind thought, so Gabriel begrudgingly accepted his fate. For one night only, he would be the fry cook of the lord.

Gabriel had a soft spot for his little brother. If he were to be altogether honest, it really hadn't taken much convincing for Castiel to talk Gabriel into taking the night off to help out with a church function.

Their father had never set out to start a family. He was married to his books, trying hard to stay on top of the genre novel industry. It just didn't occur to him that he wanted a family life, and outside of a few nutty fans, he didn't date much. With out a wife, he had no interest in raising kids. That is, until he realized his brother was abusing his two children. Luci and Michael were taken into foster care, but Chuck Shurley wouldn't leave his nephews to be raised by strangers.

And once he'd adopted two teenagers, he saw how tough the system was, and how few people were willing to take older kids in. He wondered how many other kids there were out there who didn't have an uncle to take them in. Before long he had adopted Balthazar, Anna, and Gabriel. And Castiel came last, literally the baby in the family. Gabriel was six when he came to live with Chuck Shurley, and Cas had come very soon after, barely two years old. 

Gabriel tried his best to resist, to stay loyal to his birth mother and only his birth mother. He thought accepting another family would be accepting that he would never see her again. And she was young and sweet and alone. He hadn't understood then that she was practically a child herself, that her life was cruel before he came to her, or how hard it was for her just to keep him alive. He knew something was wrong, they shouldn't have to live in hotel rooms, but he didn't understand why. And when the police came and he became a ward of the state, he thought the real cruelty was being separated from her. She took care of him, wasn't that reason enough to keep them together?

He was too young to understand what she'd done, how brave she was. She called the police herself, and she agreed to testify against her captors. He didn't know she loved him enough to sign him over because he was six and she was only twenty. She wanted out, and more than that she wanted to make sure he was never in. He didn't realize the day she lost him was the day she broke free.

The final straw, he learned later, was when she'd overheard a dealer saying he fancied Gabriel his son, maybe he could be groomed for the family business. And it was that thought that spurred her at last to put her fear and dependency away and go to the police.

And so he was miserable and lonely for the only person who'd ever loved him, and even when she wrote to him and reminded him to be good for Mr. Shurley, he couldn't let her go. He worried about her, after all, he was her little helper. How could she do anything without him?

There was a point, before the adoption was final, when there was some real concern Gabriel would never bond with his father or his brothers and sister. They wondered if Gabriel could ever adapt to their family. Maybe someone else could get through to him, maybe they should send him back to human services. But Balthazar wanted him to stay. They were the same age, and as dark as Gabriel was, sometimes he was funny. Balthazar wanted brothers, and he was already attached to Gabriel.

At about that time, Chuck got a call from the foster care people about another little boy. He was tempted to say no, because he already had his hands full with the other kids. But they were desperate to place him, and it would probably only be temporary anyway.

Castiel came, and yes, he was an irritable baby. Maybe a little sullen. But so was Gabriel, and misery loves company,and before long, Gabriel had bonded with Cassie and Balthie, and Anna was growing on him. Eventually, that feeling spread to his long suffering new father. And little Castiel had eased that transition without the slightest knowledge any transition was taking place.

Chuck told the foster care people never to call him again. But before he knew it, he'd filed all the appropriate paperwork, and with considerably less time spent in court than he expected, he had six children. Two of them were adults by this point, but the commitment was the same.

Little Gabriel liked being a big brother. He liked helping Cassie play, he liked holding Cassie's hand when he crossed the street, he liked sneaking treats out of the pantry for Cassie. He liked having a brother a month or so younger than him, Balthazar was his favorite playmate. And he liked being a little brother to Anna, torturing her with practical jokes and ruining her first date with some guy who turned out to be an enormous jerk anyway. And he loved being a little brother to Luci and Michael, who bought him presents and taught him new ways to make a nuisance of himself. Perhaps most importantly of all, he loved being Chuck Shurley's son, always having someone to talk to about his problems at school or about the things that he learned about his mother's life.

In a way, his fears of losing his mother forever were unfounded. He still wrote to her every Tuesday, and without fail, he had a letter from her by Saturday morning. Because some things are important, and family was at the top of Gabriel's list.

So, when Castiel, who scarcely ever asked for anything, asked for a favor, it was very difficult for Gabriel to refuse. What's three days off from work and a couple of meals in bad company?

John Winchester met them at the door, and he was every bit as grim and mock-able as Gabriel had guessed. He wore a leather jacket over a dress shirt and tie, clearly trying to be both edgy and professional at the same time. Mid life crisis material. But Gabriel said nothing, because Castiel was counting on him.

“So, these are my volunteers?” John said, “You must be Castiel.”

Cas nodded. “Yes, Mr. Winchester. I'm Castiel, and this is my brother Gabriel.”

“Please, call me John,” he said. He walked the two men into the fellowship hall. “Dean tells me you're a flight attendant. You must make pretty good money doing that.”

“Yes, sir,” Cas said. “And I get a few free flights a year, and a number of other benefits.”

“Wow, that must be really nice. I told Dean he might want to look into a few other careers, but he always wanted to be a mechanic. And it made sense,” John said, “It's a good trade, there will always be jobs in mechanics. What do you do, Gabriel?”

This took Gabriel somewhat by surprise. “I'm a breakfast artist, sir. I work for Lenny's Pancake House off K-10,” he found himself saying. The truth. The truth was a mistake, he knew it before the words were out of his mouth.

“It's good to have a steady job, I can tell you. After my wife died, I decided I needed to focus on crime prevention at its source. The soul,” John said. He paused, as though contemplating. “I don't suppose I have to tell you what happened to my wife, I'm sure Dean did. Worst night of my life. And yet, I'm lucky. I've got two strong boys. And I have my life. I wish Mary were here every day. But I decided when she died, that I'd try to do something with my life to honor her memory. So, I went to college, and I hit the books in a very serious way. And now I lead a flock of fifty families.”

Gabriel could see why John was a fairly successful preacher. He didn't allow any dead air at all in conversation.

“I guess what I'm getting at,” John said, “Is that in this world, a man needs a purpose. Especially if you want to build a family. Dean's purpose, far as I can tell, is to keep everybody's cars running. And my other son, Sam.” He paused again, this time in a more reverent way, “Don't ever tell him this, but I'm proud of him. Law school. Who would have thought? My son, the lawyer. He broke my heart every chance he could get as a boy, but the lord knows, he turned out okay.”

And by that point they were in the kitchen, where Dean was doing something by the sink. Gabriel knew Dean right away, they'd met at the apartment. Dean wiped his hands off on his jeans and smiled lazily at Castiel.

“Cas,” he said, “I knew you'd wander in sometime.”

Gabriel was distracted by those enormous industrial ovens. The kitchen was tiny, but the supplies seemed new and clean. This would be his work space, and he wanted to know every inch of it. A search of the cabinets proved that there would be plenty of tools available to him. He had extra pots and pans in the trunk of Castiel's car just in case, but it looks like this precaution was undue.

“Eager, aren't we?” John said, “I'll leave you kids to it. Try not to leave a mess. I need to prepare for the sermon.”

Gabriel was glad when he was gone. It was time to get to work, they only had eight hours before dinner was scheduled to start.

And that's when a marshmallow sailed across the room, and smacked into something enormous. And Gabriel turned his head and realized that Dean had opened a bag of marshmallows and had a fist full of them halfway flung towards someone. And the target of said projectiles was a mountain of a man. A handsome, extremely familiar man who was making the most disgruntled face Gabriel had ever seen.

And Gabriel was awestruck. He had no idea why Sam was-

Sam. Oh. Shit.

“You jerk!” Sam said, clamoring to get across the kitchen to that bag before another volley could be launched. But Castiel blocked his advance.

“Sam, Sam, no!” Castiel said, “Dean, we can't do that in here, Gabriel is trying to cook! John said not to make a mess! Sam!”

Dean was laughing like an idiot by this point. “You heard him, Sam. No retaliation.”

“I'm going to get you later,” Sam said, “When you least expect it, I'm going to get you back so hard you won't even know what hit you.” He shook his fist lazily.

Dean crossed to him and gave him a hug. “I need help with these games, man. We're going to use these for the indoor snowball fight, but beyond that, I got nothing. I'm glad you're here, I'm never going to have this done by the time the sermon is over.”

“Is no one going to clean this mess up?” Castiel asked while to two brothers ignored him completely.

“How's college life treating you, Sammy?” Dean asked, trying to open another bag of marshmallows with his teeth.

Gabriel had a little trouble focusing on prepping six turkeys. He stuffed them with ingredients he'd brought from home, listening all the while to the Winchesters in conversation. He stole looks at Sam, who occasionally met eyes with him conspiratorially.

This was not, as it turned out, their first meeting. Sam Winchester had eaten at Lenny's many, many times. Gabriel liked to tease him for ordering the salad at a place that could clog your arteries by way of your olfactory senses. They'd never exchanged last names, but he'd been calling this kid Samsquach for at least six months. They'd had rambling conversations during Gabriel's shift on slow nights on several occasions.

And the romantic tension was making things awkward. The flirting. the talking, and the late night snacks were coming back to haunt him. There's no way he could pretend to be the perfect brother-in-law for Dean, because Sam already knew all about him.

And yet, Sam said nothing, he only occasionally grinned at Gabriel. Gabriel, for his part, was desperately trying to arrange yams on a baking tray. He brought his own marshmallows for the sweet potato casserole, and he was struggling with the math for preparation times.

“Fast work, Gabe,” Sam said. “I'm really impressed. It's almost as though you do this for a living.”

“Yeah,” Gabe said, “Whodda thunk it. It's a Christmas miracle, I might have dinner ready on time.” He opened a couple of cans of cranberry sauce, almost to the point of hysterical laughter. Feeding 120 people turkey with eight hours of preparation time was likely the dumbest thing he'd ever attempted in his life. He already knew something was going to be overcooked and something else was going to be cold, it was just a matter of which items.

As Dean and Cas discussed the finalized itinerary of Christmas activities, Gabriel found himself conveniently (?) alone with Sam.

“So,” Sam said.

“So?” Gabe asked.

“My brother's the guy your brother is marrying,” Sam said, “The one you were talking about. Dean didn't tell me he and Cas were that serious.”

“Well,” Gabriel said, “Apparently they're very serious. He's all Castiel ever talks about these days. Brings him by the apartment to-”

“Yes,” Sam said, “I remember you telling me about that. Are they really that loud?”

“Very distracting. Sometimes I have nightmares about people screaming because I can hear them so clearly at night. I like to put in headphones and watch a movie on my laptop while they're-”

“Okay,” Sam said, “I do not want to know any more about Dean's habits.”

“It's not so much Dean, Cas is very mouthy-”

“That's way more than I need to know, thank you,” Sam said, his face scrunched up. “I feel bad just sitting here, can I help you with anything?” 

“Well, you could keep looking pretty or you could help me with these yams,” Gabriel said. Gabriel showed Sam how to peel them and how to mash them with a spoon in a big bowl, and soon they were in casserole dishes with butter, eggs, sugar, pecans, and miniature marshmallows.

And by this point the kitchen smelled heavenly.

“If I didn't know any better, Gabriel, I'd think you were trying to seduce me,” Sam said, already clearly very hungry.

“I haven't even tossed your salad yet,” Gabriel said.

“Sh,” Sam whispered, “We're in a church.”

“I didn't say anything dirty,” Gabriel said, “How could I, you're my brother's future brother-in-law, there's got to be something wrong with that.”

“But you've thought about it,” Sam said, watching Gabriel assemble the ingredients for his salad. Seven sexy layers. Iceberg lettuce, onion, peas, shredded cheese, a mayonnaise based salad dressing, and bacon. It's probably love at this point, there's no other explanation. Sam says he's a health nut, but Gabriel knows Sam likes for there to be a little bit more bacon in his salad than there should be.

“Of course I've thought about it, I don't even know how many times we've talked about it,” Gabriel admitted, “But we met months ago, and as well as things have been going for us, Castiel and Dean have beaten us to the punch. That's going to make for some awkward Christmas dinner conversation.”

“Who cares?” Sam said, “Like we have to talk about it, please. I mean, I like you. I like you like you. And I think you like me, right? I mean, beyond the innuendo thing?”

Where did all this blushing come from? Usually it was the other way around, usually Gabriel embarrassed Sam. But this time they were talking about feelings, and Gabriel felt like he's lost all control over the conversation. He stammered around for a split second, but then the smooth operator came back to the surface, “How long do you think this arrangement would have lasted if I didn't have feelings for you?” Gabriel asked. He wondered if this was too honest.

But Sam laughed. “Knew it,” he said. He called over his shoulder, “Hey, Dean, I think I can get another date out of him after all.”

Cas looked at Dean, confused, so Dean tried to explain to him. “Sammy was telling me about this guy he likes the other day. He was like, 'I wish my senpai would notice me,' and I said, 'Who even is this dude?' and he described the guy. And it was obviously your brother. I mean, how many people that tiny work at Lenny's?”

Gabriel tried to focus on getting the turkeys out of the oven, and putting the casseroles in. That focus prevented him from stabbing Dean.

Before anyone could ask, “Is dinner ready?” the spread was beautifully presented in the fellowship hall. And with seconds to spare! People were filing out of the sanctuary, following their noses to the source of that heavenly smell. There were more people present than Gabriel had anticipated, probably due to the large sign in the yard that clearly said, “Free Christmas Dinner Service.”

It was a lucky thing that Gabriel had over prepared on the sides, or there would be enough Christmas cheer for everyone. Gabriel watched them eat, pleased with himself. “Castiel,” he said, “I'm going to need your keys.”

“The desserts?” Cas asked.

“Mmmhmmm, I need to empty the trunk,” Gabriel said.

Cas tossed him the keys.

“Hey,” Sam said from behind him, “Let me help you with that.”

It was snowing; the sun had already gone down. The churchyard was lit by a street lamp and a large stone cross the church used for signage. Gabriel found the Honda Civic parked where they'd left it hours before and attempted to put the key in place on the hood of the trunk. His hand couldn't quite find purchase on the keyhole. He shivered. He'd left his gloves inside.

Sam, who was lingering above him like a helicopter, put his gloved hand over Gabriel's and pushed the key in. Gabriel turned it, and the trunk popped open.

“Teamwork, Samsquatch,” Gabriel said, “We've got this situation under wraps.”

The light came on in the trunk, illuminating plastic carry boxes full to bursting with sweets. “Really?” Sam said, “Everyone in the church is going to die of diabetic shock.”

Gabriel smiled, “Let's hope so.” He started to reach for the first stack of sugary desserts, but Sam put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

“We might not get another chance,” Sam said, and he pulled Gabriel to face him. In the low light reflected off the snow, Gabriel thought Sam's cheeks might be a little rosier than usual. Or that could just be the cold. Sam was bending down, slowly. If Gabriel wanted to resist, he had plenty of time. He could see it coming, and Sam was being considerate. But Gabriel was already standing on his tiptoes, wrapping his arms around Sam's neck, and suddenly their lips had met.

Gabriel can taste gravy on Sam's lips. He'd snuck a taste. Gabriel smiled under Sam's lips knowingly. So much for that healthy diet.

They parted just as slowly. “We're both going to hell if we make out at a church,” Sam said. His hand lingered in Gabriel's for a minute. Gabriel hazarded a glance at the church. He could just make out a figure in the window watching them. Gabriel broke Sam's hold and reached into the trunk, pulling up a stack of mini pies.

“Come on, it's cold out here,” he said, but he didn't feel it, and he knew Sam was right there with him. Sam laughed.

“How do you feel cold after that?” Sam said, “I mean, you liked it right?” he asked, lifting a stack of plastic cupcake cases.

Dean's voice cut across the parking lot. “What are you guys doing?” he asked, “You're missing the whole party!”

“Getting some sweets,” Gabriel said, giving Sam a private look.

Tuesday was the day before Christmas Eve. Gabriel always wrote to his mother on Tuesdays. This time, he had something to write home about.

Dear Mom,

You remember that guy I wrote you about a while back? The one with hair like a Wishnik? Apparently, he's Castiel's boyfriend's brother. Sam Winchester. He's been coming into the diner and ordering the salad for months, and I had no idea who he was. I couldn't believe it when I saw him with Dean. I might be in a little bit of trouble, 'cause I kissed him. What can I say, I have a strange magnetism. 

Dean and Castiel don't seem to care, so I guess maybe it isn't too weird. It's pretty weird, though, right? I mean, what if it doesn't work out? I'm going to see Dean pretty often, if he and Cas are really going to tie the knot. It'd be pretty awkward to have my ex boyfriend's brother for my brother's brother in law. Ugh, confusing. 

I really like Sam, he's oafishly huge but he's just my size. It sounds so stupid on paper, but I think I've been in love with him for months. Is that even possible? We've never even been on a date, but I see him almost every day at work. He came by yesterday, made me make him pancakes for the first time. I like him so much I want to clog his arteries. I want to cook him amazing, delicious things I don't make for anyone else. I can't even explain it, when I try I can't- I can't justify it to myself. It's like trying to describe what perfect bacon should taste like to someone who's never eaten it before.

Oh, hey, there's an apt metaphor. He's perfect bacon. Let's call that feeling described.

What do you think, Mom? Do you think I should go for it, or do you think I should cut it off?

Your son,

Gabriel

When Castiel invited Gabriel to attend the Winchester family Christmas dinner, Gabriel refused. “Come on, I just cooked for those people on Sunday,” he said.

“I know you're not doing anything,” Castiel said, and it was true. 

Christmas was usually a lunch affair for Chuck Shurley's family. This year, his mother was on a lecture tour. She had to be in Los Angeles the day after Christmas to do a seminar on the realities of human trafficking for members of the police force and human services employees. Gabriel knew this was very important to her, and as much as he hated the idea of her being alone on Christmas, he knew she'd be alright. They'd already exchanged gifts. He'd made her a big batch of her favorite cookies, and she'd knitted him a fuzzy blue sweater.

“I might Skype my mom,” he said.

“You'd still have time for dinner,” Castiel said, “You'll have to eat anyway.”

“There will be plenty of leftovers at Dad's from lunch,” Gabriel countered.

“Sam's going to be there,” Castiel said.

Gabriel sighed. “How much do you know?” he asked.

“He tells Dean everything,” Castiel said. “I think it's cute. When was the last time you went on a date?”

“Apparently last Sunday,” Gabriel said.

Cas smiled at that, which had an odd relaxing effect on Gabriel. “He wants you to come to dinner with us,” Castiel said, “He would have asked you himself, but Dean told him I was going to do it anyway. You know, you've been more help with the transition than I had anticipated.”

“John Winchester is in for a shock,” Gabriel said.

That shock would come in the middle of Christmas dinner, when John, Sam, and Dean Winchester were crowded around the table. Castiel managed to drag his hesitant brother with him very much against his will. Gabriel brought a desert course, chocolate yule log with a pistachio sauce drizzle.

“Dad,” Dean said.

'Oh, here we go,' Gabriel thought. He glanced at Castiel, who looked nervous. He winked at him, trying to be reassuring, but Castiel just stood up straighter.

“There's something I need to tell you,” Dean said.

Gabriel broke eye contact with Castiel. He couldn't watch, it was just too much. Over stimulating. He looked across the table at Sam, who smiled at him, and he couldn't help but grin back conspiratorially. 'God, he's cute,' Gabriel thought. 

“Castiel and I are getting married,” the words came out, and suddenly everyone was looking at John Winchester.

John Winchester didn't smile. But he didn't frown either. “I wish your mother were here,” he said.

Everyone panicked a little bit. At this stage, it could still go either way. And some small part of Gabriel was more invested in the answer than it should have been. His eyes shot to Castiel, and then to Sam.

“She was a kind, understanding, amiable woman. She was good at things like making conversation. Showing people how much she cared about them, that was second nature to her. And her parents, they were like that too, in their way.”

'What are you getting at, old man?' Gabriel thought.

“I remember the day she brought me to meet them. I think her father was a little skeptical of me. The Campbell family's sense of hospitality, that was something I wish I could learn. I know I'm a hard man, I haven't always been good to my children. I'm not good at talking about my feelings. And I wish Mary were here to help soften things the way she did so easily. You've been hiding this from me, haven't you, Dean?”

And that was the sickening turn that Gabriel was hoping this conversation wouldn't take. That was it, the Winchester family judgment. But he didn't dare move. He couldn't do it. His eyes were locked on Castiel, who was squirming in his seat.

“You didn't trust me enough to tell me about your boyfriend. I think I must have failed you. If Mary were here, she would have known,” John said. “But it doesn't matter, you've told me now. I'm proud of you, son. And I think your mother would be very happy to know you're settling down.”

Gabriel's mouth flew open in shock. John got up from the table and put his hand on his son's shoulder and squeezed. No one was eating at this point. Castiel stood up from the table in surprise.

And before long, dinner had devolved in a series of uncharacteristic hugging. Gabriel and Sam looked at each other from across the table, both too surprised to say anything at all. What had they been expecting? Gabriel was overwhelmed with joy for his brother and for Sam's smile.

Conversations about the future unfurled, and soon Dean, Castiel, and Sam are crowded around the fireplace talking animatedly about apartments and wedding showers. Gabriel decides to help clear the table while everyone was engaged. He was carrying a stack of plates to the sink when John Winchester's arm on the door frame stopped him.

“If you think this means I approve of your situation, let me be perfectly clear,” he said, too quietly for the others to hear.

“What?” Gabriel said, dumbly.

“Your brother is a hard working boy,” John Winchester said, “He's got a good job, he makes good money, he could fly my son to Hawaii a couple of times a year. Dean's a mechanic, it's a good match. What do you do, Gabriel? You're a 'breakfast artist.' You don't even sell your own pancakes, you make pancakes on someone else's payroll. And you're older than your brother. You're stuck in a dead end job, and you're what, 30? My son Sam's going to be a lawyer, he doesn't have time to fool around with someone like you.”

That was a sucker punch. And for once, Gabriel doesn't have a pithy response.

“If I were you, I'd put the Winchester family china gently in the sink, I'd get in my car, and I'd drive on home,” John said. “Oh, that's right. You don't have a car. Your brother drove you over here in his Honda Civic. You know, the one you kissed my son behind in the parking lot of my church.”

He'd seen. This must be what hell feels like.

“Now, obviously, I can't stop you from seeing my son, you're both grown men. But you should take an honest look at yourself and think about whether Sam deserves someone like you,” John said, “Or someone much better. Someone who's going to make something of himself.”

“Dad,” Sam called, from across the room. He walked over, his long strides closing the distance. He was laughing at something Dean said, Gabriel's head was swimming too much to focus on what it was. “What are you guys talking about?” Sam said.

“The future,” John Winchester said. He put his arm around Sam and lead him back to where Dean and Castiel were. Sam looked over his shoulder at Gabriel. There must have been something showing on Gabriel's face, because when Sam saw it, he frowned suspiciously.

Gabriel mouthed 'He knows,' in the most exaggerated way he could muster, and comprehension dawned on Sam's face. There would be no such celebration for them.

Gabriel wanted to cry. Castiel seemed to sense the change of chemistry in the room, because he was feeling for his keys in his jacket pockets, and Gabriel was numb to the warm goodbyes as Castiel whisked him away into the car. It was cold outside.

“He said all that?” Castiel asked, as Gabriel explained what had happened.

“Yes, and I'll remember every word until I die,” Gabriel said, “because he's right. He's completely right. I'm a loser. A hack. A nobody. I can cook, so what? Nobody should ever want to be with me.”

“Sam wants to be with you,” Castiel said, “It's obvious. I think he might love you, are you going to let John Winchester get in the way of that? You were the one telling me last week that his opinion shouldn't matter.”

“Maybe I should let it go,” Gabriel said. “I mean, let's be real, with you and Dean, you both have something to offer. But I'm probably going to be poor my whole life, Sam shouldn't have to deal with that. And my job is pretty unglamorous. I come home every day smelling like sausages. I'm a mess. If only I were a self made man, somebody who could really support Sam.”

The following Saturday, the weekly letter from mom arrived. Gabriel was anxious to see what she thought, but her lecture tour had kept her away from her computer, so he hadn't heard from her. He carefully tore the envelope open and read.

Dear Gabe,

Your very own giant Wishnick and you're asking me what I think? Go for it, Baby! If you like him so much, you shouldn't let what other people think stop you from trying. It won't be easy, but very few things worth doing are ever easy. And if things don't work out, at least you'll know you've shown him you care.

I hope you're free New Year's Eve, because I miss my boy. I'm going to want to spend time with you.

Your Momma.

Once he knew Sam had his mother's approval, Gabriel had no excuse to give in. He had to come up with some way to prove his worth to John Winchester.

“Do you think you'd be willing to cosign on a loan for me?” he asked Cas, a few days later.

“What?” Castiel said.

“I need to get a loan from a bank, and they said my credits only good enough for a $5,000 loan. I figure I'm going to need at least $25,000,” Gabriel said casually.

“$25,000? Are you insane?” Castiel asked. “I don't have that kind of money, how would I ever pay it back if you defaulted?”

“Touchy,” Gabriel said, “I'm just trying to rent a restaurant.”

“Rent a restaurant?” Castiel asked.

“Yeah, my boss has been thinking about retiring from the restaurant management business. He said he'd rent me the equipment and the building for a song. But I need some money to get started, buy ingredients, pay employees. That kind of thing,” Gabriel said.

“Is this about what John Winchester said?” Castiel asked. “You're still worried about not being good enough for Sam? Aren't you guys going on a date tonight?” Castiel ran his hand through his hair. “I think you should put more stock into what Sam thinks and less into what his father thinks. And besides that, if you want to own a restaurant you should save for a while. You need to believe in yourself a little more and worry about John Winchester much, much less.”

Sam comes to pick Gabriel up, and Gabriel can't help but laugh at Sam's oversized, puffy hooded jacket. They go for a walk together in the snow.

“What are you going to do when Cas moves out?” Sam asked.

The question comes from out of the blue. “I don't really know,” Gabriel said. “I haven't thought about it before. I guess I'll move in with my dad for a while, or maybe Balthazar could use a roommate.”

“Balthazar your other brother?” Sam asked.

“Yeah,” Gabriel said. “He travels a lot for work. I guess I'll have to buy my own car, since Castiel won't be carting me around anymore.”

Sam grabbed his hand. “You need to start remembering to put on gloves, how are we ever going to have snowball fights like this? Nice sweater, by the way.”

“Thanks, my mom made it,” Gabriel said. “I don't know, I guess I'm going to have to just get used to the transition. Play it by ear.”

“Maybe I could move in with you,” Sam said, “I just graduated, I'm looking for practice. I could get a temporary job here, and then when I find a practice-” Gabriel stopped and looked at Sam's face. He was biting his lower lip. “You could go with me. I mean, I don't know where I'll be working, it might be anywhere in the state of Kansas. Maybe I'm asking too much, I mean, you might not want to leave your job.”

“They're closing the shop,” Gabriel said, “My boss is retiring. I don't know what I'm going to do. I guess I'll have to look for a new job. I think.” Gabriel was reaching up, almost whispering, “I think I'd like to go with you.”

Sam closed the distance between them more quickly this time. The cold had chapped Gabriel's lips. Sam pulled Gabriel closer to him by his waist. They stood there, white flakes drifting by them as though someone had shaken a snow globe, unaware of the outside world. There was no one else on the sidewalk to see.

They broke the kiss and walked a little further in silence. Sam took his right glove off and held Gabriel's hands, cold and warm at once. They didn't want to go back to the apartment, to Castiel (and almost certainly Dean, if the rumbling of an engine going by half an hour ago was any indication).

'Let's give them some space,' Gabriel thought, hungrily taking as much time with Sam as he could. He lead Sam into a little cafe where they made real hot chocolate, and they drank it together. Sam dipped his nose in the whipped cream topping, and Gabriel laughed, wiping it away with a napkin.

He thought about what John Winchester said as he sat there, warm cocoa taking the edge off the day. Could he ever be worthy of Sam? If he really dug his heels in and tried, could he ever make Sam happy?

But Sam was happy, a big smile on his face as he drank his hot cocoa and chatted away about applications he'd sent and which ones he'd most hoped would be accepted. He wanted to work in family law.

“What are you doing New Years Eve?” Gabriel found himself asking.

“Whatever you want me to do,” Sam said.

New Year's Eve came quickly. Castiel and Dean were out of the house for the evening as they impulsively decided to drive to the Grand Canyon together. It would be almost an eighteen hour drive, but Gabriel reasoned they were celebrating their engagement and did not question it. Gabriel was busy arranging the food on the table when there was a knock at the door.

It was unlocked, and the visitor did not wait for someone to answer it. Gabriel took his apron off and rushed to the door to pull her into a hug. 

He could tell she recognized Sam from his letters on sight, because she smiled at him in this curious way, as though she was trying to see his personality through his skin. 

Seeing them together left Gabriel breathless. This was probably the most important moment of his life up to this point, though it took him a moment to recognize it. He wished he could commit them standing together to memory forever, because these were the two most important people in the world. And he wanted his mother to love Sam like she loved her son. He wanted her to be happy with the choice he wasn't fully aware he'd made yet.

Gabriel knew it would take time. He knew why she never married or had any other children. She had bad trust issues, she didn't like to share space with new people. She had trouble even making friends.

“Sam Winchester, this is my mother,” Gabriel said, but he may as well have said nothing at all.

“You were in my class,” she said. “You were in my class three years ago. You were one of my best students that year, you always sat at the front of the class and participated in discussion. I can't believe I'd forgotten your name. And Gabriel has told me so much about you! I should have known.”

“I'm surprised you remember me,” Sam said, “You have so many students in that class. It's hard to get into, everyone wants to take it.”

“You're trying to flatter me,” she said. “Might be working.” She gave Gabriel an approving wink.

“Wow, Gabriel, I can really see the resemblance!” Sam said.

Gabriel liked to pretend he was immaculately conceived, that he got everything from his mother, and he was sure she liked to pretend that too. He had her honey brown eyes and blond hair, and he didn't like to look into the resemblance much further than that because he didn't want to see any genetically inherited features that didn't come from her. She was in her forties now, and she was beautiful to him.

“Sit down, Mom, you're making me tired,” Gabriel said, “Dinner's ready, I made your favorite! Bacon wrapped jalapeno chicken. I made the potato soup because it's good, I don't know if you've had mine before or not. And a salad. I've told you about Sam and his salad.”

She looked over the spread approvingly, “There's bacon in all of this,” she said.

“Huh,” Sam said, “You're right.”

Gabriel laughed, “It's a little in joke I have with my Mom. Come on Sam, I made you a salad.” 

Sam settled across from his former instructor, and she said, “The bacon doesn't count if you eat enough salad with it.”

“That's what I always say,” Sam said.

'Yeah, this diner gig is pretty plush,' he thought to himself as he clocked out. Sure, he left work smelling like a deep fat frier every day, but at least the pay was good. And he loved to cook. The new place let him improvise a little bit, come up with his own recipes. He liked to have a manager's special and he sometimes found new suppliers for syrups and jams at the local farmer's market.

That was Gabriel's gift. He'd never met anyone who could outdo him in the kitchen, and he'd looked. He was a foodie, for sure. Learning to cook had given him a little bit of initiative when he otherwise had none. The smell of chocolate cake baking in an oven turned him on more than porn. He had to exercise a lot and watch his portion control to stay in shape, because he liked his foods rich, sweet, and flavorful. In that respect, he lived his life to the fullest.

Besides that, Gabriel had someone special he liked to cook for. Sam was sitting in his customary seat at the bar. He kept whining he'd put on five pounds since they moved in together, but somehow he still kept coming to see his boyfriend on his lunch break. Today he was having a salad. Gabriel sat next to him by the bar. He'd made himself lunch before he clocked out, pancakes with strawberry syrup.

The sizzling vats of fat hissed on, and some other jerk was working his shift. Gabriel was sure his customers could taste the excitement and danger of being a fry cook. There was a certain romance to it, when he thought about it. He poured his heart and soul, his love into food. He was a breakfast artist, after all. And he'd been told his bacon pancakes could break hearts as well as clog arteries.

The kids weren't off from school yet, and grown ups who worked bankers' hours had mostly gone back to work. In a sense, this was the snoozin' hour, and yet, this was the best hour of Gabriel's day. He could talk to Sam, and the other customers who came in around now probably crawled out of bed at noon, so they couldn't be all bad.

“Castiel has a special mission for us, if we choose to accept it,” Sam said.

“Special mission?” Gabriel asked. “I hope it's not like the last one.”

“I'm afraid it is,” Sam said. “Vacation bible school.”

“No,” Gabriel gasped in feigned horror. 

“Apparently Dad needs help again, and you know what that means,” Sam said.

“Damned busybody. Why can't Castiel just help him himself instead of trying to pull us into this,” Gabriel said. “He knows the man hates me.”

Sam scowled and shook his head. “He doesn't hate you. He's just a stubborn old man.”

“Oh, he hates me alright,” Gabriel said, “And he should, because I stole his perfectly good son.”

“Just because I'm not talking to him doesn't mean you stole me!” Sam almost shouted. Then he realized how quiet the rest of the restaurant had gotten. A few of the other regulars were watching them very closely. An old woman among them was giggling. She elbowed her son, who looked very tired. Sam whispered, “We've always had a rough relationship, it's just how my dad and I are. He wants what's best for me, but he doesn't know what that is. He doesn't understand how much I care about you.”

“I'm a son kidnapper, that's all there is to it,” Gabriel said, “I whisked you away in the dead of night and fed you pancakes and now you take me wherever you go.”

Sam scrunched his face up in a way he usually reserved for his brother, but soon he can't help but smile. He reached for Gabriel's hand and held it for a moment.

Sam made Gabriel feel like maybe he wasn't a washout. He felt stable, like any change that came after this was something he could take. He was a fighter, fighting for the life he and Sam had together. And they were saving, so that someday they could retire and start a restaurant together.

But they weren't engaged yet. Baby steps.

Gabriel had his own car now, but he liked it when Sam dropped him off at the apartment on his way back to work. It gave them more time together.

“So, what do you think? Vacation bible school?” Sam asked in the car.

“Absolutely not,” Gabriel said.

So of course, he was in the church kitchen the following weekend. Because how could he say no to that face?

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note: Special thanks are due to my beta reader Kika988 and to my partner on this project, KDHeart who provided the beautiful art associated with the work as well as the lovely reading of Gabriel's letter to his mother. You can see KDHeart's hard work here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1044530 
> 
> This has been a great joy for me to try, I'm very happy to have been a part of this Sabriel Minibang. Thank you for reading.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Is Dinner Ready? [art]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1044530) by [KD-art (KDHeart)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KDHeart/pseuds/KD-art)




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